A Cynical Mind
by clap your hands say claire
Summary: An exclusive insight into 15 year old Harry Potter's teenage head. Misunderstood, shoved aside and sick of not getting any credit for saving the day, Harry's life pretty much sucks. Oneshot.


_A/N: This is a challenge, which was set by Heaven's Flying Fish. The requirements are as following.  
__  
Must contain:  
A purple dinosaur. (Not specifically named 'Barney'.)  
A lump of charcoal.  
An Invisibility Cloak.  
Three 'I Heart Moody' badges.  
__  
Characters:  
Harry.  
Ron.  
Augustus Rookwood/Macnair. (Death Eater Selection Table)  
Tonks.  
__  
Length:  
2500 words, plus.  
Oneshot.  
__  
Phrases:  
"Darn you! Darn you all to Heck!"  
"Harry Potter can kiss my ass!"  
"Why is Voldemort catching the train? ... But that's one snappy suit."  
"KABLOOIE!"  
_

**A Cynical Mind:  
****An Exclusive Insight into Harry Potter's Teenage Head**

I, Harry Potter, am entering my fifth year at Hogwarts School at Witchcraft and Wizardry. But, of course, you already know that. It's _you_ we don't know; you're the juicy news. What quirks lurk beneath those rosy cheeks? What mysteries do those muscles mask? Does courage lie beneath those curls? In short, what makes a fan fiction reader tick? Me, myself and I want to know!

How I digress. I don't actually care who you are. I simply felt the urge to quote that vile Rita Skeeter.

I am currently riding the Hogwarts Express, the gorgeous train that transports the students of Hogwarts (well … obviously) to our tranquil castle. Even though _Warner Bros._ seem to think that it is situated on the edge of a rocky cliff, it's not. Hogwarts, my home, is surrounded by softly sloping hills the colour of emerald, with a sparkling blue lake that is the home to a giant squid. Mmm … how I love calamari.

You would think that being The Boy Who Lived would be tough, and that I wouldn't have time to notice how wonderful Hogwarts is. Well, not really. Apart from dealing with Malfoy and his cronies occasionally and Voldemort and his Death Eaters … not to mention Snape, the evil Potions Master, my life is pretty damn good. Actually, it sucks, but I like to think of myself as an optimist.

I am sitting comfortably in my seat, eating a pumpkin pasty and thinking of Cho Chang, an extraordinarily beautiful girl in sixth year. I don't usually go for girls older than myself, but she really is something. I first noticed her last year, when I had long hair. I was on the Hogwarts Express (what a great place to pick up girls) when she ordered two pumpkin pasties from that crazy old trolley lady. I couldn't help staring at her, much to the amusement of her faceless friends.

I must admit that now I am addicted to pumpkin pasties, as they make me think of Cho. I may even like them better than treacle tart, which, in my opinion, is food from the gods.

Alas, now my hair is short, due to an unfortunate encounter with Aunt Petunia's scissors over the summer holidays. Ron and Hermione are sitting next to me, making eyes at each other. They think that I don't notice, but I know that they've liked each other ever since Hermione told Ron that he had dirt on his nose. In fact, I caught Ron rubbing his nose with a lump of charcoal this morning. I walked up to him at Grimmauld Place and said, "What are you doing?"

Ron screamed like an infant child and ran away. I asked Hermione about his odd behaviour at the breakfast table, but she just smiled knowingly and answered, "It turns me on." Being a boy at the tender age of fifteen, I wasn't exactly sure what she was talking about. I must ask her later.

I am being ripped from my thoughts of Cho in her underwear by Draco Malfoy, that little tart. He is opening the door, and standing there in what he thinks is a menacing way. Oh, I do love it when he plays dirty. He's also wearing his favourite fur hat, the one that makes him look Scandinavian.

"Shove off, Malfoy," says Ron.

Malfoy ignores him and instead surveys me. "Potter," he sneers.

I jump up, ready to punch him, when I realise that he hasn't done anything yet. Oh well. I like punching him. As does Hermione. That's probably why many readers of my books came up with the idea that Hermione and I should get together. What codswallop! I'm going to get married to Cho.

I am about to punch Malfoy when Ron pulls me back, muttering, "He's not worth it."

"Looking for this, Weaselbee?" Malfoy grins, pulling out a purple dinosaur from behind his back.

Ron's face turns an unattractive shade of orange, which matches perfectly with his hair. How does one make his face turn orange? I really must practise in front of a mirror.

"Horatio!" Ron cries, making a feeble attempt to grab the dinosaur.

"Horatio?" I snigger, making Ron punch me in the face. Merlin, this year is turning out to be quite eventful.

"Give it here, Malfoy, or I'll knock you off your broom!" I yell, trying to stick up for my best friend. Did I mention that Malfoy is riding his Nimbus 2001? Well, he is. I have no idea why he is riding it on the train, but I must say he looks quite becoming.

"Harry Potter can kiss my ass!" Malfoy sings, waving the dinosaur around.

"I'll do it," comes a small voice from behind Malfoy. Oh, it's Crabbe. I have to admit I don't even know what his first name is. His father is a Death Eater, though, so he deserves to burn in Hell. (Little did I know, after reading _Deathly Hallows_ ...)

"You idiot," sneers Malfoy to Crabbe, kicking him in the groin. Crabbe falls to the ground in immense pain. It's quite hilarious, really.

Hermione grabs the dinosaur from Malfoy, runs over to the window, opens it and throws poor old Horatio out of the train.

"Nooooooooooooooooooooooo!" yells Ron, tripping over his feet in order to get to the window.

Horatio is flying through the air. As soon as he makes contact with the ground, he explodes into a billion dinosaur pieces.

Malfoy suddenly looks scared and runs away with Crabbe closely behind, clutching his groin.

"Darn you!" cries Ron, tears pouring down his face. "Darn you all to heck!"

"Ron!" I say, scandalised. "Curb your fucking language!"

Ron gives me the finger.

Hermione sighs impatiently. "Ronald!" she says sternly. "You are so incredibly thick! Don't you just realise that I saved your life?"

I sit down in my seat and pick up my soggy pumpkin pasty. I wonder what Cho is doing right now.

Ron is curled into a foetal position on the floor, his body racked with sobs. "You killed Horatio!" he moans to Hermione. "He was given to me by Great Aunt Bessie!"

"Horatio was a bomb, you idiot! I know for a fact that Rookwood and Macnair gave Malfoy that bomb in order to kill Harry!" Hermione says, kicking Ron in the back.

"Rookwood is dead," I supply helpfully. "He died years ago." Hang on. That doesn't sound right. Eh.

"Damn," says Hermione. "My sources must be incorrect. I'm going to kill Ginny …"

The door to the compartment opens again and Dumbledore enters, carrying a bag emblazoned with the words, "Chipolatas. The masculine sausage."

"Professor," Hermione sighs, kicking Ron again. "This isn't a great time …"

"Sir," I say, standing up. "Why are you on the train?"

"Glad you asked, Harry dear," says Dumbledore enthusiastically. "You see, after all that trouble we had last year with Barty Crouch Junior disguising himself as Alastor Moody, many people are of the opinion that Alastor is a Death Eater!" He pauses dramatically, as if waiting for a response.

"And?" I ask, attempting to look interested. I might go and find Cho later … tell her how sorry I am about Cedric. Not that I really care. All I'm interested in is getting her into bed. Whoa! Back to Dumbledore!

"I am here," he is saying, "to promote the truth. Alastor Moody is a good man. That is why I am giving away badges!" Dumbledore pulls out three badges, which all have "I Heart Moody" written on them. Suddenly, the writing changes to "Potter Stinks".

"Oh dear," Dumbledore says, looking at the badges. "I bought these badges off young Draco Malfoy … I thought I was getting a good deal! Oh well, never mind …"

I stare at Dumbledore pointedly. I don't want to wear a bloody badge that claims that I stink!

"Terribly sorry, Harry, but there's nothing I can do," says Dumbledore sadly. He then brightens. "Oh well!" he says cheerfully. "I expect you're used to this sort of thing! Now, I'll just pin these onto your robes and apply a Permanent Sticking Charm … there."

"I hate my life," I moan melodramatically as I stare at the hideous badge on my chest.

With a pop, Dumbledore is gone. Ron is still curled up on the floor. I think he's asleep. Hermione is sitting on her seat, reading _Hogwarts: A History_. Merlin, how many times has she read that book?

I sit down on my seat with a sigh. Damn, my life sucks. I moan, trying to see if I get a reaction from my friends. Nothing. I moan again.

"Oh, do shut up, Harry!" snaps Hermione.

Bored, I lie down on the seat and attempt to go to sleep.

Suddenly I'm at Platform 9¾, walking down the platform in a zombie-like state. Why am I here? I glance quickly at my attire. I'm wearing an ugly grey hoodie, which is slightly too tight for me and makes my neck look short and thick. Not my preferred choice of clothing.

Many random people are running past me. I grab a young boy. "Why am I here?" I ask him. He ignores me and runs away.

Suddenly I feel my gaze glued to a figure standing a few metres ahead of me. It's Lord Voldemort. Without thinking, I begin to walk towards him. He is dressed in a Muggle suit, for some reason. Why is Voldemort catching the train? … But that's one snappy suit!

Voldemort tilts his head to the side and twists his neck, which looks pretty uncomfortable. Some creepy music is being played.

Panting, I wake up. It was all a dream.

"Harry! We're at the station!" Hermione hisses in my ear, grabbing my shoulder.

"Are you alright, mate?" asks Ron, with a distinct look of concern on his vacant face.

"Fine," I whisper, allowing myself to be pulled along by Hermione. What is with that dream I just had? Why was Voldemort wearing a suit? He hates Muggles!

Out by the station we assemble, waiting patiently in the cold for the horseless carriages to take us to the Hogwarts castle. Whoa! Hold on there baby! They are no longer horseless!

"What's that thing?" I ask Ron and Hermione. For some completely random reason, Neville is here as well.

"What thing?" asks Hermione.

"That thing pulling the carriage!" I exclaim, pointing to the repulsive animal standing in front of our ride.

"There's nothing there," says Ron. "The carriage is just pulling itself, like always."

I groan. I am so misunderstood!

Momentarily forgetting about the weird beasts pulling the carriages, my thoughts again turn to Cho. She is so beautiful. I can be her toy boy. She has so much more experience than me … maybe she can teach me some new tricks. Hang on … I'm making myself sound like a dog. Scratch that last.

:o:o:o:

Christmas this year came very quickly. I have been busy, what with forming a rebellion group to fight against the evil new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Umbridge.

Umbridge is a revolting, wicked woman, with a strange fancy for plates featuring technicolour kittens. She also likes wearing pink, which does nothing for her stout figure and is my least favourite colour. She happens to hate me and doesn't believe that Voldemort is back in all his suited glory, which is utterly ridiculous. I saw him!

I have also been trying very hard to act like a gentleman around Cho, when all I want to do is rip her robes off. She told me I was a good teacher! I think I'm in love. Ginny has also been impressing me lately with her magical skills. I never knew she was so powerful … I wonder what she's like in bed. Wait! I like Cho! But you can't deny, Ginny's got style … hmm, I think I heard that somewhere.

Anyway, now I'm at 12 Grimmauld Place, celebrating Christmas with the Weasleys and Sirius, my fantastic godfather. I love Sirius so much. He's like a real father to me. Even if he looks dirty pretty much all the time and likes to touch me a lot.

Christmas Day. I am wandering down the main hall, looking for Kreacher the House Elf when I hear some noises from outside.

"KABLOOIE!" yells a voice from outside. Suddenly, the front door falls down, revealing Tonks, wand drawn.

"Wotcher, Harry!" she says brightly, stepping inside.

"Wotcher?" I ask curiously.

"Yeah! Don't you remember, I say it all the time!" Tonks says, lifting the door up with her wand and reattaching it to the frame.

"It's been a long time since I've read _Order of the Phoenix_, Tonks," I say, scratching my head. I swear I have lice. I must have caught it from Sirius.

"Harry, we're _living_ _Order of the Phoenix_!" Tonks exclaims.

"Ah," I say, not understanding what she is talking about. "You know, you could have used 'Bombarda'," I add, gesturing to the door.

"Harry," says Tonks seriously, putting her hands on my shoulders. "'Bombarda' isn't a real spell!"

"Oh no!" I say, horrified.

"Yes," says Tonks sadly, shaking her head. "A movie creation."

"Oh, crap," I moan as Tonks walks away.

Have I ever mentioned how much my life sucks? Like, first Voldemort zones in on my parents, killing them. Then he tries to kill me, failing miserably. I'm sent to the Dursleys, who are the most disgusting, horrible people on this planet.

I spend eleven years bullied by my cousin and tortured by my aunt and uncle until I'm rescued and sent to Hogwarts! That was pretty good, but you see, I'm also famous for getting rid of Voldemort, so people stare at me a lot. My grades at Hogwarts kind of suck, which also sucks, but that's mostly because I have more important matters at hand, such as getting rid of Voldemort.

Do you know what else sucks? I never get any recognition for what I do! I save the day, like, every year! Nobody says, "Thanks Harry!" What do I get? Nothing! Take second year, for example. I save the school from that stupid Basilisk. Nobody cares. Instead, when bloody Hagrid comes back from Azkaban, the whole school starts applauding him! Err … WHAT ABOUT ME?

And fourth year! I am forced to participate in that godforsaken Triwizard Tournament, watch Cedric Diggory die (not that I minded … that bastard totally stole Cho away from me) and then Voldemort decides to torture me, much to the amusement of the Death Eaters! That was pretty embarrassing, you know! I come back to school with Cedric's body and tell everyone that Voldemort's back. And you know what? Nobody believes me, except for Dumbledore, Ron and Hermione! And Cho. Sigh.

That's another thing. I always tell the truth … well, except when it comes to Snape. OK, I usually tell the truth. When it matters. But no one believes me! Merlin! Kill me now! Wait … then I wouldn't get to go out with Cho. We kissed and everything, at the last Dumbledore's Army meeting. I think she's so hot.

Anyway, I'm still standing in the musty old hallway at Grimmauld Place, bored as hell.

"Harry!" calls Ron loudly from somewhere. I have no idea where he is. Eh.

"What?" I ask.

"Want to play hide and seek?"

"Sure!" I exclaim. I am totally ace at this game. Probably because I cheat.

And with that, I whip out my Invisibility Cloak and drape it over myself. Ron'll never find me.

**THE END**

Please review. It will make me feel worthwhile and valued in this cold, cruel world of fan fiction. You know you want to.


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